Bert and the stenographer had taken a short cut to the Stockton mansion, and, as they emerged from the woods, on that side of the house where Bert had picked up the mysterious message, they saw flames shooting from one of the windows. "The fire is on the side of the house where the prisoner is!" cried Bert "It's in that secret corridor!" "Maybe you'll have a chance to rescue him!" exclaimed the stenographer. The fire had not gained much headway, and, under Bert's direction, a long ladder was procured, raised against the side of the house, and then, carrying the hose himself, the young chief ascended toward the blaze. "Give me the stream!" called Bert to Cole, who was in charge of the engine. From the nozzle came the white, frothy mixture. Bert directed it at the window through which the flames were coming. "Don't you dare go in that hall!" shouted Muchmore, running from the side door of the house to the foot of the ladder. "The fire doesn't amount to much. You can put it out from where you are, young man. I never called your department out. The old woman got scared and sent in the alarm. It's only some rubbish burning." "I'll do as I think best about putting the fire out," replied Bert. "Don't you go in that corridor!" yelled Muchmore, who seemed frantic over something. The chemical stream was already smothering the blaze, and Bert could go a little farther up the ladder. He continued on, coming right opposite the window. Then he knew it was the same casement from which the mysterious message had been thrown. He could look in now, and he saw that the fire came from a pile of rags and paper on the floor. He directed the chemical stream directly on them, and in a few seconds the last vestige of the blaze was out. But Bert did not descend. He was peering into the dark corridor. Would he get a sight of the prisoner held there? He tried to pierce the darkness. Surely that was a movement, surely that was someone hurrying to the window. Bert looked down. He caught one glimpse of Muchmore, in the light from a lantern Tom Donnell was carrying, rushing at the ladder, as if to upset it, and precipitate the boy on it to the ground, thirty feet below. But in the same glance Bert saw his chums holding back the enraged man. There was another movement in the corridor. Then a gleam of light showed, and, to his surprise, Bert saw an old man, carrying a lamp, coming toward him. The man's hands were bleeding, his clothes were disheveled, and his hair and beard were matted, as if they had known neither comb nor brush for a long time. "Save me! Save me!" cried the man. "Is the fire out? I started it to call help! I thought the firemen would come. Oh, save me!" "You're all right," replied Bert. "There is no danger. The fire is all out." "Yes, the fire is out. There is no danger from that. It is my rascally nephew whom I fear. Save me from him!" "Your nephew? Who is he?" asked Bert, wondering what was about to happen.